The Survivor
by Sauron of Mordor
Summary: Hermione's POV regarding the aftermath of the battle. Set five years after the war, it covers the lost time and a bit of the future too. I am so very bad at short summaries, so please read and review. Rated R for later. Gotta go now. Please read and revie
1. Default Chapter

'_**Till there are dreams, there is treasure.'**_

**Prologue**

**The Survivor**

What do you do when you look up to the heavens and find no solace, no comfort? What do you do when you wake up to understanding only to find yourself thrust into the midst of a fame, a waking legend that you have no idea of how to handle? What do you do when you find friendships and yet are forced to forsake them just because your fate was already laid out before your feet? What happens when you face the devil himself and even with all the odds against you, you defeat him? What happens when you do that and yet are so pure in heart that you develop a guilty conscience that no one could ever understand? These are some questions that I think I shall never find answers to, for I am Hermione Granger, and I am only a survivor of the war, not the end of the war itself.

It began about half a century ago, when the meteoric rise of Lord Voldemort to the annals of power began, when he began an Order which for the next fifty years terrorized the people so much that their names are still a source of fear for all, even five years after their fall. It took a baby and a mother's love for him to overthrow Voldemort and vanquish him to nothing more than a spirit. Yet, the spirit of Voldemort had not lost any of its potency. The malice was still there as was the desire to rule all, to make every one subservient to him.

Eight years ago, he rose again, more powerful than ever and this time, it took that same baby, now a handsome young man to stop him, to defeat him and to rid the world of his evil, once and for all. So how do I know this? Is it because it is a common legend? No, I was there all along. I may be only a survivor of the war, but I am a survivor who fought, who fought and survived. Others died; others who I had known. But I survived. Maybe because I was destined to this fate, this constant waiting, hanging on to a glimmer of hope, in the hope of nurturing a new life, in the hope of wanting to see a beautiful life grow. I was and I think I shall always be a survivor only, nothing more, nothing less; unlike the one who ended it all; unlike the one who lived, survived.

I knew the one who ended the war once and for all. It was the same person whom I called my best friend for seven years. It was the same person who caused the lull in the war in the first place and it was the same person who ended it when it resumed thirteen years later. The beginning, not remotely, but certainly, he was, or shall I say, is the end of the evil that our world had to face and fear for so many years on end. Even today, people fear to speak the Dark Lord's name – the name 'Voldemort' still strikes terror into the hearts and minds of all. But speak of the one who ended his reign, and people gush forth with joy, happiness and reverence bordering on the limits of worship. For the one who vanquished the Dark Lord is Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and the Man Who Conquered and the Man I Love even unto this day, even though it is five years since I ever heard a word from him.

Sometimes, I wonder if what the people say is true indeed. If Harry lived, not survived. I often wonder where he is and what he must be doing, whether he remembers any one in the old world that he left behind or if he has just forgotten everyone and started a new life, and really started living. Sometimes, I think maybe it is my job to wonder and think.

For I am Hermione Granger, and this is the story of my life, a life that began after the war for domination of the wizarding world ended, a life that began after Harry Potter vanished from our world and left me alone with the most precious gift he could have given me, my son, our son, Samuel Potter, my hope and my treasure.

_To be continued...(only if you want me to continue writing this though, because I honestly don't think this is too good at the moment. So let me hear what you think)_

Author's Note:

Well, for those of you who are already familiar with my other fic, you will find this very short indeed. But let me just tell you that I got this plot bunny at 22,000 feet and just had to get it off my chest. (For details, refer to my other fic, Harry Potter and the Ancient Secret of War, you will find all about this. The link is ). I will be updating this soon. See you then.

Please read and review. It really encourages you to write more, faster and better.


	2. A Memory from the Past

'_**Till there are dreams, there is treasure.'**_

**Chapter One**

**A Memory from the Past**

I am Hermione Granger, and I am a very early riser. Even when we were all back at Hogwarts, I was the last one to go to bed and the first one to wake up. You'd think that I have insomnia or something, but that is hardly the case. At twenty-two, I do have a lot of energy, much like I did at eleven, or twelve or thirteen. It's this energy, this zeal for life, that drives me one; and by the way, did I mention my son, Samuel or Sam as everyone calls him. He is still asleep, as I stand by his bed and looks even cuter and younger than his four years. Of course, my view may be a bit myopic, considering that I'm his mother and am bound to get my eyes glazed over at even his slightest hurt or a sign of his joy when he learns a new thing. It is like watching yourself all over again. But, considering that I have always been a very rational person and that the same fact has been attested by all those girls and women who have gushed over Sam's appearance, I can very well affirm that he is a very cute child.

Even as he sleeps there in his bed, I see signs of his father in him. The emerald green eyes that he inherited from him, who in turn, inherited them from his own mother, are currently closed, lightly, indicating a journey into the unknown land of dreams. But the way his lips are curled up slightly at the corners, he looks exactly like Harry. Yes, Harry looked exactly like that whenever I saw him sleeping peacefully, sometimes in the common room and a couple of times in his own dormitory. You might wonder what I might be doing in the boys' dormitory. Of course, it wasn't like I was sneaking in. I just went there on a couple of occasions to wish Harry and Ron 'Merry Christmas'. I don't think you could imagine Hermione Granger, ex-Head Girl at Hogwarts breaking any rules although I daresay I did break a fair few during my time, snooping around Hogwarts with two persons who I'd say had the biggest appetite for trouble ever – my best friends, Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter.

Oh no, here I go down memory lane again, but wait, I am saved for the moment now by Sam, who is waking up. Yes, there he is, stretching his little fingers and twisting his body around as he wakes up. I go over to him and take him in my arms. He opens his eyes as he snuggles into my lap and says, "Good morning, Mommy."

This is one of the things that I really find amusing about my son. Ordinarily, he has forced himself into calling me 'Mum' all the time as a way to prove that he is all grown up and all that. This was after Fred had once teased him saying that one could really not be big until one stops calling one's mother 'Mommy'. But despite all this, it has always been 'Good morning, Mommy' and 'Good night, Mommy'. I have never for out the logic behind this but needless to say, I find it very endearing.

I kiss Sam on the forehead and say, "Happy Birthday, honey." It takes a moment for Sam to register what I'd said. Like Harry, he is not really a morning person. However, he soon wakes up fully and breaks out into a smile all over and jumping onto the ground, he starts shouting out joyfully, "Yippee! It's my birthday."

I force myself from rolling my eyes, a trait I had picked up from constantly having to watch the backs of Harry and Ron, while at Hogwarts. It's so nice seeing Sam so Happy, although he is, in all a very happy child. The uncanny resemblance to Harry is very striking. However, his messy hair is brown, not black. I guess that's something he clearly got from me. I wonder if Harry had been like this in his childhood. But no, he could never have been. Those dreadful relatives of his, the Dursleys would never have allowed him to be. Yet I cannot help but wonder if he would have been like that, if he had a normal life, growing up with his parents looking after him.

I tell Sam to go and tidy up while I myself go take a shower. As I let the warm water cascade down my entire body, I can vaguely hear the excited noises that Sam is making around the house. I can almost imagine him dancing in glee, anticipating the birthday celebrations we will be having for him later in the day. Yet it seems as if with the water, all my past memories are also coming to the fore. I remember this day four years ago, the day when Sam was born, the day I brought a child to this planet.

'_My screams rang through the hospital wing at Hogwarts. This was the worst contraction yet and I kept begging in my mind for something to happen that could ease my pain. It was just so unbearable._

"_One more push, Hermione" Madam Pomfrey told me, "One more push and it will be out."_

_I bit my lips as I tried to keep another torrent of tears at bay. I felt my lips draw blood as I pushed one last time. Soon there was a sound of loud crying that filled the whole labour room._

_Madam Pomfrey held the baby in her arms and said, "Congratulations! You have a baby boy." And she took Sam away to clean him up._

_I lay there, exhausted and the person who was there all along with me during the delivery squeezed my hand._

"_You did really well, you know," Mrs. Weasley said._

_I nodded and smiled weakly at her. At that moment, Madam Pomfrey came back in and handed Sam to me._

"_He is so beautiful," I said. "His hair, it's like mine." I pointed to the tufts of brown hair on his head._

_Mrs. Weasley nodded and gently patter the baby, now in my arms. I watched adoringly as Sam yawned slightly and moved a bit in my arms._

"_Have you thought of a name?" Mrs. Weasley asked me._

_I nodded and said, "Yes, Samuel. We can call him Sam." And with that moment, I wished silently to myself that if only Harry were here, this moment would be perfect.'_

It has been the same thing that I have wished so many times over the past four years and nine months, ever since Harry disappeared, but in vain. Don't get me wrong, my life with my son is really wonderful, almost perfect, but somewhere deep, I feel this deep aching in my mind, body and soul. And I know why, it's because I want to see Harry again, to feel his presence, to know that he will be alright again.

I shake these things out from my mind as I hear the sound of someone Apparating, down in the kitchen. I have a good idea who it is and my thoughts are confirmed as I hear Sam shouting gleefully, "Grandma Molly."

I close off the tap and wipe off the tears that had made their way down my cheeks. I take a towel and as if ridding of any memories, I dry myself and get dressed, to face a new day, my dear son's fourth birthday; and to meet the woman who has taken the place of my mother, ever since my parents were killed by Death Eaters six years ago.

_To be continued..._

Author's Note:

If you are wondering about the slight discrepancy in the time period that Harry has been gone. It has been four years and nine months as Hermione said, nearly five years you might say. All besides this will be revealed in due time.

I have decided to make the chapters short, roughly about 1k to 1.5k words, so that I can update every two three days.

P.S. Please read and review. It really encourages you to write more, faster and better.


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